


If

by SnoopFroggyFrog



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Child Tom Riddle, Domestic Fluff, Gen, Lucius is drunk, Severus is done with all of it, Wormtail is clumsy, in places
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-02-01 01:47:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21320572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnoopFroggyFrog/pseuds/SnoopFroggyFrog
Summary: If. Or rather: When. Things go wrong.In which Wormtail causes an accident, Lucius' liver doth suffer too much, and Severus can't catch a break.
Relationships: Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy
Kudos: 16





	1. BOOMM!

**Author's Note:**

> Minor warning for swear words, I guess.
> 
> Also, don't brew potions while caffeinated, kids.

Once upon a beautiful day in Malfoy Manor. It was quiet, there being only the Malfoy couple and a few guests in the house. Down below, in a room in the cellar devoid of windows, a cauldron was bubbling over with a potion above a blisteringly hot fireplace, and a tall, pale man with red eyes was snipping a hemlock root into even slices on a desk beside it.

Apart from that, the desk was covered with other potion ingredients, and all other shelves and worktops in the room were littered with an unidentifiable chaos of parchment, quills and things which had better not be named. Parchments were pinned to the walls as well, and a levitated quill was scribbling notes on them when the man beckoned it to.

The scene would be adequately described with „Voldemort was very, very busy“, though not entirely accurate. Voldemort was less busy and much more obsessed. He had been leaving the laboratory at the most to sleep, and that not even regularly, during the past days. Coffee was his loyal advisory. Had there been a mirror down there and had he looked into it at some point, he would have seen dark circles around his eyes of at least the size of Canada.

However, he was obsessed; namely with the bubbling potion in question, and as he stood there, cutting, raspling and mashing ingredients, he blocked out everything, from the existence of mirrors to his own name, that wasn't related to the topic of potions. Of course, he could easily have ordered Severus Snape to do this experiment he was working on for him, but he really was far too vain for that. It was his idea and if he wasn't busy anyways because he was delegating the dirty work all the time and because he was currently keeping a low profile, then he could just as easily do it himself.

So he was standing there and was just letting the hemlock root slices fall into the cauldron when a small, bald man, commonly known in the house as either Wormtail or Waste-of-Space, tripped through the door, a cup of coffee for his Lord and a vial of a blue-green shimmering, bubbling liquid in his hands. Unfortunately he tripped in every sense of the word: Once over his feet, then over a stool and lastly over his own shoelaces, whereupon he, arms outstretched, flew forward. In the direction of the cauldron.

Before Voldemort, who was just finding his way back to reality, was able to react, the cup and the vial had dropped into the cauldron, Wormtail against it and the cauldron dropped into Voldemort's direction. A bang, and the potion splashed over a thunderstruck Dark Lord, while Wormtail, lying on the ground behind the cauldron, remained there in safe hiding. When the explosion was not followed by curses of both verbal and magical variety being flung upon him, he peeked over the mess. And gulped.

And this scene was best described with: Shit.


	2. A pretty kettle (of Dark Lords)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Wormtail just keeps on tripping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sappy domestic fluff stuff incoming.

Narcissa Malfoy was a beautiful and happy woman. She had a loving, handsome and rich husband, a no less handsome, well-bred, bright son and a beautiful and huge home. Of course the latter actually belonged to Lucius, but she wasn't the kind of woman to give much about those kinds of formalities.

On this morning she sat at the breakfast table, a nice cup of coffee in hand, and smiled at her husband. He opened his mouth and she fed him a piece of croissant with jam, then he did the same for her. Both of them were delighted that their somewhat eccentric house guest had been locked up in his laboratory for days, for had he been present, he would have made a biting comment, commonly along the lines of „You're hardly hormonal teenagers anymore“. Not that Narcissa minded it much, she was far too proud to be in such a happy marriage, but Lucius generally took Lord Voldemort's words to heart. It was probably related to the fact that said Lord had already known his father, Abraxas, very well, whereby Lucius had practically grown up with the man. She didn't mention it, though. Her father-in-law had died shortly after Voldemort's return and both men were quite upset by it. Privately, she assumed that Abraxas' death was the main reason for their guest's frequent dives into wild experiments. She had been present when her husband and his Lord had returned from the first meeting and Voldemort, who had just then learned of his old friend's illness, had hurried to the sickbed. Abraxas had been visibly delighted. He had known that the effort to live on would pay off, he had said, admittedly fairly melodramatically. Voldemort's hand in his and pressed to his chest he had cried tears of joy and eventually and finally succumbed to his illness.

Narcissa wasn't stupid, by any means. No matter how often she heard that the Dark Lord was incapable of positive feelings, she knew better. He may not have been able to express it very well, but it was there. For no other reason than grief over the death of his oldest friend would he have become so withdrawn. More than just his oldest friend, Abraxas had probably also been his closest. To be accurate, Abraxas had informally adopted him as a brother – something he had constantly bragged about – and had also been the one to basically coerce him to become Lucius' godfather, though how he had managed to survive that was anyone's guess.

She took a sip of coffee and pushed those thoughts away. It didn't achieve anything to reminisce about that. The most important thing was that Lucius and she were able to breakfast in peace and to flirt like hell on top of it. It really was quite nice that Draco was out for a few days, visiting the Notts.

She was just drawing her bare foot over her husband's thigh and smiling coquettishly at him when Wormtail tumbled through the door, over his feet, the chair at the other end of the table and the edge of the tabletop, ripping the tablecloth that had gotten caught in his clothes off of the table together with a number of decorative figurines and vases, and finally he tumbled over his own feet again only to land at Lucius'.

Furiously, she shot up: „How _dare_ you, you clumsy buffoon! Why are you disturbing us?!“

Wormtail gulped audibly and his eyes darted between her and Lucius in naked fear. He pushed himself up a little and mumbled something unintelligible. She only heard „cauldron“, „coffee“ and a vulgar term with a C.

Lucius got up then and kicked against Wormtail's knee: „Be quiet, take a breath and then tell us what happened.“

Only a select few people in the world were capable of saying such relatively friendly words with such immense loathing and she felt a wave of pride in this ability of her husband.

Shivering, Wormtail did as told and began anew.

„I was... supposed to... coffee and a vial... tumbled and the cauldron... all over the Lord... and now he is... he is...“

More was probably not going to be gotten from the panicking little imp. Decisively, Lucius grabbed him by the collar and dragged him along as he set off to the cellar. Narcissa quickly caught up to him and tucked her arm into his.

Wormtail must have managed to close the door to the laboratory. As they opened it, a strange smell greeted them, carrying with it a whiff of burned broccoli. Lucius and Narcissa looked it over.

„And where, pray tell, is he now?“ snarled Lucius.

Wormtail paled even more, if that was at all possible, and his eyes darted around frantically. A movement in the corner, behind a big table, attracted Narcissa's attention. Tentatively, she stepped closer. There, in the corner, was a little, darkhaired boy, clad in the much too big robe of Voldemort and pressing himself into the wall. He stared at her with suspicion and a little fear.

Incapable of saying anything, she waved her companions over. Lucius' eyes widened in disbelief as he saw the boy and he grabbed Wormtail with both hands and shook him.  
„What have you _done_, you lousy little...“, he clearly was unable to find a sufficient insult.

„Who are you? What do you want with me?“ the little boy suddenly asked. Lucius found no answer and Wormtail only whimpered in panic, so Narcissa kneeled down in front of the boy.

„My name is Narcissa. What is yours?“ she asked and smiled her Best-Mother-of-the-World smile for which Draco, at the tender age of seven, had once actually made her a trophy.

The boy didn't seem very impressed but he did answer: „Tom.“

„Delighted to make your acquaintance, Tom. Are you hungry, by any chance?“

He scrutinized her suspiciously but nodded curtly. Without further ado, Narcissa picked him up and he let out a sound of protest.

„Wonderful, let's go and get you something proper to wear and then we will have breakfast, alright?“

She didn't even await an answer and turned to the door. As she passed him she murmured to Lucius „Clear this up“ and then she quickly left the laboratory.

„What have you done?!“ swore Lucius. Wormtail flinched.

„I don't know, I don't know! I just tripped and then... then he was suddenly like that“, he whimpered.

Lucius cast him a disdainful glare. This klutz was just useless. Now the Dark Lord had shrunk and obiously had lost his memory as well. Great.

He took a deep breath, then he examined the cauldron and the rest of it's contents. This accident screamed for an expert.

After he had locked Wormtail into another room, he hurried to give Snape a floo call.

Had anyone told her before that the Dark Lord had been a sweet child once upon a time, Narcissa would have declared them a lunatic. Now, though, she was personally watching an exceptionally handsome boy, who could not be older than seven years and was wearing freshly shrunken clothes of Draco's, sit across from her at the breakfast table and bite into a buttered slice of bread. He had eyed the marmalade suspiciously and then pushed it aside. She, too, was getting suspicious looks every now and again and she was beginning to feel like she was a marmalade herself. 

„What is the last thing you remember before you were down in the cellar, Tommy?“

The nickname came automatically, before she could stop herself, but he didn't pay it any mind. Instead, he seemed pensive.

„I don't know. That I went to bed, I think.“

What had he been working on that would have such an effect? Hopefully, Lucius had already notified Severus.

„Did you kidnap me?“ he suddenly asked and in a tone of voice in which one ordinarily asked what the weather tomorrow might be.

„No, we did not“, she said curtly.

He didn't even seem skeptical. „Right, who would kidnap an orphan.“ With that, he ate the rest and eyed the bread basket with eager eyes. „May I have another?“

A bright smile sneaked onto Narcissa's face at that question and of course she allowed it. The thought that this boy was the Dark Lord was beaten unconscious by the thought that this small, handsome boy was very sweet and polite.

Still, she felt a bit uncertain. There was something about the child that didn't sit right with her. He was more suspicious than was good for a child, even in such a situation. Besides – the Dark Lord, an orphan? Of course it was possible that the accident had changed his memories, but somehow she doubted it.

Sighing inwardly, she wondered what she could do now. The best would probably be to guard the mini Lord so that nothing would happen to him until Severus had found a solution for this problem. Until then, maybe she should keep quiet about the accident and magic overall. Who knew what that could do.

After breakfast she brought out some children's books which she used to read to Draco. At first she wasn't sure if Tom would allow her to read them to him now, but when she sat down beside him on the sofa and started to read he didn't protest. Indeed, he was as tired as could be expected after multiple sleepless nights and she hadn't even reached the middle of the book when he was lying in her arms, sleeping peacefully. She couldn't help but smile at the sight. Then she maneuvered him to lie properly on the sofa and conjured a pillow and a blanket to keep him warm.


	3. Launchpad McMalfoy and Darkwing Snape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Snape gets dragged into the mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mopey McBatface incoming. Take a guess who's the Donald Duck of the wizarding world...
> 
> Typos to be returned at the exit.

Severus Snape was anything but a content man. He had a shitty job with a shitty salary and shittily had to be a double mole with a shitty future. His house was shitty too.

The only thing that could put him into a temporary state of satisfaction was a calm morning with a cup of hot tea, a good and ideally educational book and without unforeseen interruptions. The brewing of potions brought a similar result but for that he had no energy left this early in the holidays. A whole school year with even more pesky teenagers than usual, moreover a suicide training competition for a few intellectually challenged adrenaline junkies and added to that a Dark Mark getting slowly more and more visible and painful, topped off with a painful meeting with the Dark Lord a relatively short time ago, had cost him all of his energy. The last two days he had spent only eating and sleeping and still some nerves were hurting from the torture curse and the other torture that was called work.

So now he sat, satisfied, on his favourite armchair, the bookshelf behind him, a table with tea and a few biscuits on the one and the window through which cautious sunshine and a drizzle were visible on the other side. He took a sip of tea and turned the page to chapter twenty-three, then suddenly Lucius flopped out of the fireplace.

He hastily put the tea aside and a bookmark into the book. An unannounced kamikaze floo pilot never bode well and when the pilot also happened to be the poor bugger who had to host the Dark Lord, then shit must have really hit the pixie nest. He sighed inwardly and cursed Dumbledore, the Dark Lord, his fate, the queen and anyone he could in some form blame for his misery. With some imagination, he could blame everyone.

„Have you forgotten how to travel through fireplaces or did someone shove you in?“ was his ill-humoured greeting for his old friend. Yes, he could even blame Lucius for everything. And he could make him feel it now too, which lightened his mood minimally.

„Have you forgotten how to greet a friend or are you just to halfbloody for civilised manners?“ Lucius coughed, arose and patted the soot off of himself.

At least he was good for something, Snape noticed, feeling pleased. Taking his anger out on Lucius was satisfying especially because he nagged back. Dumbledore constantly ignored these things with a smile and drove him to sheer lunacy.

„I need your help, Severus.“

„You mean the Dark Lord needs my help.“

Sheepishly, Lucius scratched his head. „Yeeeah, that too... basically... somehow...“

„Get to the point“, Severus grumbled.

„Wormtail made a mess of things and the Lord is a child.“

What kind of shit was he talking? „The former was to be expected all along and could you please not speak in metaphors?“

Lucius didn't meet his eyes as he answered: „It was not a metaphor.“

And with that, Severus Snape's day had gone to shit.

When the two men entered the crime scene no twenty minutes later, Severus eyed the chaos that met him there disbelievingly. A knocked over stool, a knocked over cauldron, everywhere still lightly and less bubbly puddles of the former cauldron contents, and he didn't even want to think of the conditions on the tables that the Dark Lord had created himself.

Carefully he stepped to the cauldron and regarded the rests of the experiment. A little puddle, in diameter about as long as his wand, was still inside and shimmered purple. He sniffed. It smelled of burned broccoli and... sauté potatoes? He could barely imagine that the Dark Lord had locked himself in down here to make lunch. A potion that emitted such a smell was unknown to him and he knew basically every potion, except for, apparently, the lunatic experiments of the boss snake.

„What did Wormtail drop into it?“

„A cup of coffee and a vial with some potion ingredient. No clue what it was. He said that it was some greenblue, bubbling liquid.“

Severus frowned. That did not tell him anything. So he had to approach Voldemort's chaos to find some notes. Before that he filled several vials with the rest of the potion and put them into the next cupboard that still had space left. Then he stepped towards a piece of parchment that was glued to a wall.

_Rice viper tongues, odourless poison?_

_ Fried herring tomorrow_

_ Torture Wormtail_

_ „A History of Magic“, note mistakes, underline and send to the old owl with a curse when back in business_

Severus groaned in annoyance and Lucius grimaced.

„Let me guess: Everything but this potion.“

„I don't know how he manages not to confuse anything. This is complete chaos“, Severus grumbled and massaged his temples. Then something occurred to him: „Where is the vial with that ingredient?“

Apparently Lucius had no idea and so they started a search that proved exhausting, since Severus insisted on not disturbing the room so that he could better reconstruct the accident later. After a while and several shards of a coffee cup, Lucius pulled the corpus delicti out from under a cupboard with his fingertips and a wrinkled nose.

„Found it. Well... what's left of it.“

Indeed it was the bottom half of a vial, crusted over with the potion from the outside, but it was better than nothing, especially as there were still a few drops inside. Severus sniffed.

„Smells like holy water“, he said and was even more confused than before. If he was unlucky, which he usually was, then the Dark Lord had gotten confused by his own chaotic notes and mixed together the wrong things.

The remaining drops of the hopefully untainted holy water in quotation marks he filled with a pipette into a tiny vial. He could only hope that it was enough to find out what, by Merlin's freshly plucked nose hairs, was in that potion and how he might maybe reverse its effects.

„I have to take a look at the Lord.“

Lucius looked unhappy. „He'll kill me when he goes back to normal.“

„_If_ he goes back to normal, my friend“, Severus replied as they entered the hallway and patted his shoulder, „if.“

When they entered the living room they gaped. There was the little Lord lying on the sofa, sleeping peacefully, Narcissa sat beside him and was fondly stroking his hair. Lucius did not know whether he wanted to laugh, cry, be jealous, die of shame or do everything at once. Overall he felt like the situation was getting bigger than him. Narcissa could at least look after the Dark Lord, Severus could look for a solution, but he was standing uselessly at the sidelines. And he was the one who knew Voldemort the longest, damn it!

„I need to take a look at him“, Severus explained and earned an angry over-my-dead-body glare from Narcissa.

„He is sleeping and don't you dare wake him“, she said quietly.

He rolled his eyes and stepped closer anyway to examine the boy. After a few moments he turned to Lucius.

„Do you have an old photo of him? I need a frame of comparison.“

Lucius thought feverishly. While there were some photos from his father's school days on which he was visible, he seemed to remember the Dark Lord gathering those together and burying them somewhere, back when Lucius was younger. Photos of Dark Lords were not welcome to the same.

Then he had a Eureka moment and snapped his fingers.

„There should still be his old school trunk in the attic, maybe we'll find something there.“

Narcissa promptly took advantage of that and shooed them out. Together, they hurried to the attic.

„By the way, what have you done with Wormtail?“ Snape asked.

Lucius, ripped out of his thoughts, said: „Hm, what? Oh, that. Locked him up in the cellar before he messes up something else.“

„You should have locked him up the second he crossed your threshold.“

He shrugged helplessly. „The Dark Lord insisted on using him as an errand boy, though I believe he meant „slave“. Don't know how Wormy earned that.“

Severus huffed. „Name one person who is nicer than mean to that rat and I'll personally bring them to the spell damage ward of St. Mungo's.“

With those wise words being said, they had reached the stairs to the attic. When they opened the doors a stuffy smell hit them and Lucius of the far more sensitive nose had to sneeze.

„Bless you“, Severus said dryly, and started the search for the trunk.

Lucius dug through all the junk as well and had to wonder several times about the garbage he he had stashed up here. A box full of bottle caps, old and moth-eaten school scarves that were totally out of fashion, an old dress design of Narcissa's, and porn magazines that were definitely not his. He shuddered and tried to get the image out of his head. Best if he would lock Draco up in his room until he graduated and hire bodyguard trolls.

„I've got something“, Severus called and he hurried to his side, thankful for the distraction.

Indeed they had found the old school trunk, a sign hanging on it on which was written, in a beautiful, curved handwriting, the name „Tom Riddle.“

„Tom Riddle?“ Severus asked and only those who knew him well could hear the slight disbelief in his voice.

Lucius shrugged. „Yes, that's his name. Well, was. I was still small, but I remember my father calling him that. They hadn't mentioned it afterwards.“

He eyed his friend who didn't seem to believe him.

„What? Did you think that someone had called their kid „Voldemort“?“

„I'm more disturbed by the last name. Riddle. Sounds like the pseudonym of an upscale stripper.“

„How do you know that and however can I get THAT image out of my mind?“

Severus shrugged. „Your problem“. Then he opened the trunk and ended that conversation.

Inside were a tinged cauldron, a stack of old school books, even a few uniforms, old quills, parchment and an old box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavoured Beans. With a sense of pure desperation, Lucius dug through it all, pulled out something here and there that looked like a photo and even turned the uniform pockets inside out. Nothing. He groaned in frustration.

„Oh, come _on_!“

Severus hummed in agreement. „Is there anyone else who might have a photo?“

„Erm... Walburga Black? No, she's dead. Rosier, Mulciber... Nott! Alexios Nott should have one, they were in the same year.“

Then he remembered, feeling desperate, where his son was right now. „Damn it. Draco's there.“

Severus arose with a sigh.

„Did you think you could keep this a secret forever?“

Ill-humoured, Lucius trudged after him. „He'll kill me when he goes back to normal.“

„_If_ he goes back to normal“, Severus sighed for the second time today, „if.“


	4. Fantastic photos and where to find them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Draco endures unspeakable torment. Also, cake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Snape should become a detective. Although maybe not, because nothing is quite as horrible as people asking you to do stuff for them.
> 
> Also, Severus can't escape his students.

Draco Malfoy was, generally, a very content boy. He had money, loving parents and many friends. And still, right now he was surely the unhappiest boy in all of Great Britain.

„Checkmate“, Theodore Nott said serenely.

„Ass“, was Draco's poisonous reply, which made the other smile.

„What did you expect when challenging me?“

„To lose less humiliatingly than this.“

Theodore didn't reply, just stored his chess board and figurines in a cupboard. Then he turned back to his guest.

„Do you want to keep clinging to my coat-tails or will you piss off already?“

„Keep dreaming“, Draco huffed. As if he would let the chance pass by to question someone who knew more about the Dark Lord's past than himself, or who just dared to say more because he wasn't said Lord's host. He had never learned much from his grandfather and now, having more specific questions, he needed someone like Theo. Whose father, after all, had attended school with the Dark Lord.

„Okay, be that way“, Theo mumbled, then grinned, „Then we'll now bake a cake for my father.“

He could have realized in advance that this wouldn't be easy, he thought crossly and followed the other boy into the kitchen. The house of the Notts was not anywhere near as big as his own home, but, defying his expectations, that made it no more comfortable. All of it seemed to be surrounded by a grim aura that not even sunshine could lessen. Maybe he was just imagining it, though, because he had been dragged through terrible torment since his arrival.

They were just mixing together the dough when the door knocker sounded. Surprised, they looked at each other. No one had been expecting visitors. Theo left him the dough and went to open the door. Only moments later, Draco's father and head of house stormed inside, and immediately Draco was pulled out of the kitchen and into a strong embrace.  
„Are you alright? Everything okay? Having fun? Great, you'll have to stay for longer-“

„I have to what?!“ Draco yelled, aghast.

„That's not important“, Snape said and turned to Theo, „We need something from your father's things.“

Theo blinked in confusion. „Excuse me? You want to go through my father's personal belongings without asking him?“

„Did I not express myself clearly?“ Snape growled, almost automatically falling into his classroom manners.

„By no means, _Professor_“, Theo said and put a whole lot of malevolence into the title, „but if you assume that I'll just let you proceed, you are mistaken.“

„It's an emergency“, Lucius said.

Theo rolled his eyes. „Anyone can say that. What, pray tell, could you need so urgently that it would justify going through other people's property?“

„A photo of the Dark Lord in his school days.“

If there was one thing Snape didn't do, then it was beating around the bush. The embarrassed silence that followed was used by the two boys two gape at the adults. Snape used it to manoeuvre the two, along with Lucius, into the parlour, then he began to open cupboards and dig through drawers there.

„Hey, cut it out!“ Theo hissed and drew his wand, „And if you needed a photo of the wizard with the hopping pot, you have no right to go through our things!“

Surly, Snape turned around and ripped his student's wand out of his hand. „Firstly, Mister Nott, you should show more respect towards your teachers. Secondly, I don't care what you think about which rights I have, and thirdly I will curse you if you don't immediately hand me this photo!“

Theo stared and him darkly and kept quiet. Snape, who apparently just remembered that the summoning charm existed, flicked his wand, whereupon an old photo album flew out of the upper floow. He picked it up and flipped through the pages.

Lucius turned to Theo in the meantime.

„Theodore, it's really urgent. If you worry about what your father will say, just tell him to come to us and we'll explain everything“, he said in a calming tone.

Snape said, without looking up from his search: „And you complain about what he'll do when this is over.“

Lucius shot him a glare. Draco gasped.

„Father, what happened?“ he asked in worry. The idea that someone might hurt his father made him choke. His father put his hands onto his shoulders and looked at him intently.

„Everything is alright, Draco. Just stay here until we have cleared everything up, then there won't be any problems.“

There was something in his father's eyes that did not sit right with him, but he knew that he had no choice. So he just nodded.

„Found it“, Snape said and took a photo out of the album. Then he stuffed it into his pocket, threw Theo's wand and the album onto the sofa and left for the door, without asking Lucius to follow. Lucius quickly said goodbye and hurried after him, before he would leave him behind. That would just be great.

When Lucius and Severus returned to Malfoy Manor, they found the little Lord awake. He was lying on his belly on the ruby-coloured carpet and had his nose in a book that looked horrifyingly like children's literature. Narcissa sat on the sofa, a fashion magazine in her hands. When the door opened she looked up.

„So? Found something?“

Severus ignored her and gestured for the boy, who had likewise looked up, to stand. If he had lost his memory, then he didn't think he'd need to be quite as mindful as usual. The boy arose with a mistrustful glare. Severus stepped closer and thoroughly compared face, hair and stature with the photo. No doubt, this was really the shrunken Lord, and not some other result of a crazy potion mixture. That just left the question if rejuvenation was the intended effect of the potion. At least now he knew where to search. He stood up.

„I'll go through the laboratory again and the other rooms with notes. Mind that he doesn't get another potion, who knows what might happen.

He went to the door.  
„And maybe you should have some food brought to Wormtail, I might need to question him.“

With that, he left the room and closed the door behind him. Finally some quiet. At least a little bit. This day was with no comparison the worst since the crazy snake had stepped out of the cauldron. He had even run into two of his students, and even if they were of his house, it did not lift his mood at all.

Still, something gnawed at him. This was perhaps the best chance that the Order of the Phoenix had ever got. With the Dark Lord factually incapacitated and aside from the two of them no Death Eaters in the house, the path to victory was almost undisturbed. Even though he was shrunk and had forgotten everything, a crazy murderer was still a crazy murderer. At the first chance he would let Dumbledore know of this incident and with some luck, the most terrifying dark wizard of this century would be history by dinnertime.

The moment that Severus had left the room, Tom turned to Narcissa.

„Why did he do that? And why is he talking about potions?“ he asked, in a fairly demanding tone. Since he had turned up in that strange cellar, no one had told him what was going on. He had until now not dared to ask, in case they would return him to the orphanage, but the situation was increasingly frustrating him.

Narcissa put aside her magazine and beckoned him to her. He stepped closer with hesitation and she simply picked him up and sat him on her lap. Sitting beside her, Lucius was, if possible, turning even paler than usual.

„What do you know of magic, Tommy?“

He looked at her doubtfully. Was she looney?

„Magic happens in books“, he replied slowly. She seemed a bit disappointed. But what did she expect?

„Did weird things never happen to you? Things that no one aside from you could do?“

His eyes widened in amazement.

„That's magic, what I can do?“ he breathed more than asked, afraid that it would just turn out to be a prank that a few loons were playing on him. But weird things _had_ happened to him.

Narcissa smiled. „Yes. You're a wizard, Tommy.“

A smile crept onto his face and he slapped his hand before his mouth. He didn't want the pretty woman to see him smile. When he smiled, everyone ran away.

She didn't pay it any mind and turned to Lucius.

„I think we should go for a walk. That'll be good for all of us.“

Lucius tried to smile and failed miserably. Sighing tiredly, he shook his head.

„No, I should stay here. I suspect that Alexios will try to rip off my head later today. Better that I'm present so he won't take out his anger on the house...“

Narcissa raised her eyebrows but didn't inquire further. She deposited Tom on the floor and stood up.

„Let's go, we have to change. You can't go outside in that get-up, and you still need shoes."

And with that, they left an unhappy Lucius behind.


End file.
